Young Girl, Go Away
by redheadedsweetheart
Summary: A song on the radio takes Bret back fifteen years ago when he had met a young woman who had given him the greatest gift he could have asked for at the time-a chance to feel young again and to have some short lived happiness. Bret Hart/OC
1. Will you still love me tomorrow?

_Italics—flashback_

_**Bold Italics—song lyrics**_

I flipped through the stations on the radio in an attempt to stay awake. Turning past the country and late night news stations, my finger finally stopped on an oldies station that was blasting some good tunes from the 1960s. I still had another two hours to go on my drive home, so I turned the radio up just as Mick Jagger and the Rolling Stones got done singing about how they couldn't get any satisfaction. Man, could I relate to that. Two ex-wives, an unhappy fiancé, four grown kids that barely acknowledge me unless they needed money and a couple of grandkids that I never got to see unless it was Christmas or their birthdays. When did I get so old? When did my life pass me by? I knew all about not being able to get any satisfaction.

My cell phone lit up with a flash letting me know that I had an incoming call. Glancing over the caller id, I saw that it was my first ex-wife, Julie. Fuck her. I didn't want to talk to her right now. Anytime she called it was never any good news, it always something bad with her. She was probably calling to bitch at me about how I turned our youngest daughter's plea for a loan for a new car down flat. I'm not stupid; I knew what she was going to do with that money if I gave it to her, and it wouldn't have been spent on a new car. She probably told her mother a completely different story, however, and that's how I ended up being the bad guy.

I was debating on whether or not to return Julie's call after the phone stopped ringing and vibrating and rolled over to voicemail when the next song on the oldies station started up. It took a few chords and the first few words to play before it registered with me what song was playing. A smile instantly formed on my face with the memories this song was associated with and then quickly faded when I remembered how that memory ended and how I would never get a second chance to try and change it.

_**Tonight you're mine completely**_

_**You give your love so sweetly**_

How long had it been? Shit, it must have been at least fifteen or sixteen years by now. I ran my hands through my rapidly graying hair. When I had met her it had still been brown. I had still had a little bit of youth on my side. Now I was just an old man. An unhappy old man at that. The years haven't been good time to—my chosen profession and time have finally caught up with me. Fifty five years old, divorced twice, a head full of gray hair, a body that is stiff and angry with me for all the years of abuse it took, a bunch of kids that don't want anything to do with their old man except for money, and a career that's basically dead, leaving me completely unhappy and wishing for the olden days of traveling every night to perform in front of an ecstatic crowd that would scream my name. I miss the crowds, the excitement of it all; I missed doing what I loved most in life. It leaves me longing for the nights when I would get stranded in those small towns overnight with nothing to do but head down to the local bar and drown my sorrows until my car could get fixed or the weather would clear up.

_**Tonight the light of love is in your eyes**_

_**But will you love me tomorrow?**_

It was during one of those 'stranded' nights that I met her. A smile forms on my face as I think about her pretty face—full pinks lips, high cheekbones, bright blue eyes and the brightest smile I had ever seen. The smile gets bigger when I remember how she used to smell—like vanilla and sugar. My chest feels tight when I think about her voice—soft and meek when she spoke. But when the girl sang—low and sultry, practically oozing sex appeal. When she sang, she let a side of herself shine that she normally kept hidden. I let out a deep breath when my mind wanders to what her body had looked like—young, firm, sexy, trim and tight. The way her blue jeans were so tight and hugged her hips and backside and then flared out at the bottom, the cuffs almost covering up her sneakers. The way her tank top would sometimes creep up her back and her little tattoo would peek out. I had spent hours tracing the outline of that tattoo, smiling when she would tremble in my arms because of the tickling sensation. She'd whisper 'stop it' with a shy smile on her face but we both knew that she never wanted me to stop touching her.

Her hair color was a mix of deep auburn and brown. She wore it long, down to her shoulders and she had a tendency to wear it up in a modernized beehive style. She liked to wear her hair big when she was working, but on the rare nights that I got to see her, she would wear it down for me. I remembered how it used to cascade down her bare back and I sat behind her and kissed her shoulders. I rub my fingers together now. I swear I can almost still feel how silky her hair would feel between my fingers. I could almost hear her contented sighs when I would run my fingers through that hair. That beautiful, beautiful hair.

I used to joke with her that she was born in the wrong decade—she should have grown up in the sixties. Her style, her mannerisms, her taste in music, and the way she seemed to be so much more mature than a girl of just nineteen years. She would laugh and say that would have been 'killer'. She would have loved to have been alive during that time just so she could have experienced the music first hand. I would have loved for her to have been alive during that time because then I wouldn't have been too old for her. What would have I done if she hadn't been so much younger than me? The answer still scares me to this day.s

_**Is this a lasting treasure**_

_**Or just a moment's pleasure?**_

The age difference between us was a double edged sword. It had been exciting for her, thrilling even, to have the attention of a man so much older than her. Twenty one years separated us. I came with experience that she loved. She was eager to learn from me. She would listen to my stories of being on the road and being involved with the business for so long; she hung on my every word. She came with the youth that I craved, that I needed. I listened with rapt attention as she prattled on and on about community college courses she was taking and stories from her job part time bartending at the local watering hole. Her life was simple and uncomplicated; so much unlike mine.

The little youth that I had had left on my side when I met her was fading fast and being with her gave me the opportunity, no matter how brief it was, to relive it just a little bit. I just wanted another chance to feel young and to maybe feel happy. Even though those feelings were short lived, they were well worth it.

_**Can I believe the magic of your sighs?**_

_**Will you still love me tomorrow?**_

It's hard to explain what I had with her. Was it love? Was it lust? Was I just trying to get some frustration out? Was she using me? Was I using her? Whatever it was, it worked for us. I never made her promises that I couldn't keep and she never asked me for anything. She knew who I was, she knew that I was famous and had money. She didn't want any of that. She just wanted me for who I was—an old man desperately trying to hang on to a sliver of his youth. An old man who just wanted to be happy, even if it was only for a short time. I wanted a woman to look at me like I hung the moon. I wanted a woman to moan beneath me, to beg me for my touch.

The night I met her forever changed my life. I haven't been able to find anything in my life that could match those feelings of the night and the brief time that I got to spend with her. I had let her know right away when we first met that I was a traveling man and that I had a life waiting for me at home. I didn't mention the wife or kids. But for some reason I think she knew that my family man obligations was what I was trying to forget when I was with her. She knew that nothing serious was ever going to come of what happened between us. She was fine with that. It was like she understood that I was just looking for a brief period of happiness and that she could provide me with that.

_**Tonight with words unspoken**_

_**You'll say that I'm the only one**_

_**But will my heart be broken**_

_**When the night meets the morning star?**_

I reached over for my phone. I stopped myself before my fingers touched the number pad. What was I doing? Not only is my hair going gray, is my mind as well? Did I honestly think that after fifteen years I would be able to just dial her old number and she would pick up? Did I think that when the phone stopped ringing and she answered in her soft voice that I would be able to actually speak to her? It's been fifteen years. Surely she's moved on with her life. She's probably married with a couple of kids of her own by now. She wouldn't want to talk to me. Her husband would demand to know who was calling so late. But on the other hand, maybe she did it. Maybe she was able to follow her dream of being able to get out of that one horse town. Maybe she was living her ideal life right now—singing in front of a crowd and people clamoring for her attention.

The song was almost over. That silly smile was still on my face while my mind wandered back to when I first heard her sing. That voice. You never would have suspected that a strong and sexy voice like that could have come out of a shy girl like her. You never would have known that music was her passion. You never would have suspected that she had an affinity for singing and performing. She was a good girl for the most part; until you got her in front of a microphone and a crowd. During the week she went to classes at the community college—she was studying to be an insurance representative. On the weekends, and one or two nights a week, she bartended. She dealt with old drunken men all the time. These men would hit on her, try to buy her a drink, chat her up and hope that maybe she would go home with them at the end of the night. What made me so different from the others, I had wondered the first time it happened.

_**I have to know that your love**_

_**Is a love I can be sure of**_

_**So tell me now and I won't ask again**_

I put my phone back down on the passenger seat. I wasn't going to call her. It had been pretty clear the last time that we saw each other that it was just that—the last time. There wasn't going to be any late night phone calls. There weren't going to be any letters sent. There wouldn't be any late nights together under the blankets on the sofa talking softly. It was over.

_**Will you still love me tomorrow?**_

_**Will you still love me tomorrow?**_

_**Will you still love me tomorrow?**_

"_Hi. I'm Crystal…."_

"_Bret…." I said softly as I reached for her hand…._


	2. Downtown

_**Bold italics-song lyrics**_

_Italics-flashback_

Regular-current

_**Fifteen Years Earlier…**_

"_Hi, I'm Crystal," she said with that bright smile on her face as she held out her hand._

"_Bret," I said softly as I took her hand. I held it longer than I probably should have. The feeling of her soft skin against my calloused hands felt amazing. It felt like it had been so long since I had felt the soft touch of a woman. Yes, I had a wife and I had felt her. Sure she let me touch her. But there was something different about touching Crystal. I had been sitting on this barstool for about an hour now and had watched her finish up her shift behind the bar. When she clocked out, she had come around the bar and had come over to me. _

"_Nice to meet you," she said, that bright smile still fixed on her face. I managed to smile back at her. She motioned to the empty barstool next to me. "Expecting anyone?"_

_I shook my head quickly. "No, please. Sit down. Can I buy you a drink?" I said quickly. The words were out of my mouth before I realized it. Was this girl even old enough to drink legally in this state? She couldn't have been more than 18 or 19 years old. _

_That smile again. "Thank you…." she said as she hopped up on the barstool and leaned her elbows on the bar. "Mike?" she called to the other bartender._

_I watched the big burly guy behind the bar finish handing a customer his change before he came over to take her order. "Aren't you tired of this place yet, Crystal?" he asked with a teasing smile. The smile faded a little when he noticed me staring at this beautiful creature beside me. I had just blown into town about an hour ago. I had been on my way to a show this upcoming weekend at the Minneapolis/St. Paul area and my rental car had stalled out in the middle of nowhere. I had made multiple calls to the home office out in Stamford bitching about how it seemed like every time I had to travel by car instead of the tour bus that I was entitled to, I ended up stranded in the middle of fucking nowhere. This time I'm stuck tonight in a small town named Silver Bay. The population sign when I came into town from the highway said there were 756 people living in this hole in the ground. It was by sheer luck that I'm sitting next to probably the prettiest resident of the whole town._

_She let out of a soft giggle, bringing my attention back to the present. "I know. It feels like I've been here for three days straight! I'm so looking forward to having tomorrow off."_

_She had tomorrow off, huh? That got me thinking. Well, what really got me thinking was the way her long legs looked in those blue jeans when she got settled onto her barstool and crossed her legs. The way she leaned one elbow on the bar and rested her chin in her hand. The way her eyes seemed to flirt with Mike the bartender. "What can I get you, sweetheart?" Mike was saying. I barely heard him, and I barely noticed the quick glare he shot at me when he noticed me leering at her. I was too busy watching her twirl a lock of silky hair around her finger._

"_Bacardi Coke," she answered without hesitation. Mike looked at me. "Another beer?" he asked. I nodded and watched him busy himself with making this angel's drink._

"_So, where you from?" she asked as she turned slightly on her stool and gave me her full attention. My breath caught; she had the brightest eyes that I had seen in a long time. At first glance they were blue, but the more I looked, the more green I saw in them. _

"_Calgary," I managed to stutter out after a few seconds of delay. What the hell was going on with me? I was a forty year old man and here I am, acting like a high school boy trying to get up enough courage to ask out the prom queen._

_Mike set her drink down in front of her and my beer in front of me. "Keep it on the down low," he said quietly to her as he looked around to see if anyone had saw him put the rum in her glass of Coke. I was right. She wasn't even old enough to drink. She reached for her pocket to pay for the drink but I quickly told Mike that I would get it. She flashed me that bright smile again as I handed over some money to the bartender to pay for both our drinks._

"_Thanks…..Calgary, huh…What on earth on you doing out here in boondocks Minnesota?"_

_I hesitated. She obviously hadn't recognized me. She had no idea that she was sitting next to Bret 'The Hitman' Hart? "Just passing through town," I said as I took a sip of my beer._

"_Where you headed?"_

"_St. Paul?"_

"_For what?"_

_I chuckled. "You sure ask a lot of questions."_

"_You intrigue me."_

"_I do, huh." Another sip of my beer. I stared straight ahead. I didn't trust myself to turn and look at her right now. "Why is that? You just met me…."_

_She shrugged her slim shoulders. "I don't know. It's not often that a handsome stranger manages to find themselves to good old Silver Bay."_

_I smiled. Nice stroke to the old ego. Suddenly I didn't feel like the down on his luck forty year old loser anymore. "You got a thing for handsome strangers?" At first the words felt weird coming out of my mouth. Was I seriously attempting to flirt with a girl who was young enough to possibly be my daughter?_

_She blushed. And I swore I fell in love. "Well…" she stuttered. She was about to say something else when the karaoke dj had turned on his microphone and stated that he was looking for singers. Just my luck. I find myself stranded in a strange town with a little hottie who thinks I'm handsome and it turns out to be karaoke night. There's nothing worse than drunks who think that they can sing. What a mood killer._

"_Crystal is up first!" the karaoke host trilled. I heard a squeal of delight beside me. Oh no…did I just try to pick up a karaoke chick? Then I noticed that the ten other people that were in bar besides me starting clapping and whistling. Was it because she was really good looking, or because she worked here, or maybe she was a good singer. I guess I would just have to wait and see. _

"_Save my spot?" she asked as she hopped off her barstool and took a big drink out of her glass. Once again, she had left me speechless for a few seconds. This time it was because when she hopped off her chair and asked me to save her chair, she leaned over and touched my shoulder and I got distracted by the scent of sugar and vanilla. This girl…._

_I watched her make her way to the front of the bar. A big smile on her pretty face when she approached the karaoke dj and took the microphone from him. _

_The music started. I was expecting her to sing some modern pop song that I had no idea how it went. I was pleasantly surprised when I heard the beginning of an old Petula Clark song. I never would have pegged her for a girl who liked to sing music from the sixties._

_**When you're alone and life is making you lonely**_

_**You can always go – downtown**_

_**When you've got worries, all the noise and the hurry**_

_**Seems to help, I know – downtown**_

_**Just listen to the music of the traffic in the city**_

_**Linger on the sidewalk where the neon signs are pretty**_

_**How can you lose?**_

_If I thought she was pretty just sitting next to me, she turned out to be breathtaking when she started singing. She looked like a different person when she sang. And was it my imagination or did it feel like she was singing directly to me?_

_**The lights are much brighter there**_

_**You can forget all your troubles, forget all your cares**_

_**So go downtown, things'll be great when you're**_

_**Downtown - no finer place, for sure**_

_**Downtown - everything's waiting for you**_

_**Don't hang around and let your problems surround you**_

_**There are movie shows - downtown**_

_**Maybe you know some little places to go to**_

_**Where they never close - downtown**_

_**Just listen to the rhythm of a gentle bossa nova**_

_**You'll be dancing with him too before the night is over**_

_**Happy again**_

_Happy again? Those lyrics spoke to me at this exact moment in my life. I wasn't happy. My contract and patience with the WWF was running out. Julie and I fought all the time over anything and everything. I had a feeling that both things that I had once loved most in my life were about to screw me over pretty soon. So you can see why I'm not feeling the least bit guilty right now fantasizing about how sweet Crystal's lips would taste right now. I wondered if she tasted like the sweet sugar she smelled like._

_**The lights are much brighter there**_

_**You can forget all your troubles, forget all your cares**_

_**So go downtown, where all the lights are bright**_

_**Downtown - waiting for you tonight**_

_**Downtown - you're gonna be all right now**_

_Was I gonna be all right? That question was constantly on my mind day and night. I didn't know for sure. It felt like everything that had been once so solid in my life was slowly, very slowly, crumbling around me._

_**And you may find somebody kind to help and understand you**_

_**Someone who is just like you and needs a gentle hand to**_

_**Guide them along**_

_At this point in the song, she had moved away from the monitor and was standing a few feet away from the tables of drunks. They were loving this. She touched the shoulder of a guy who must have been a regular customer as she walked past him and continued singing. He beamed with the miniscule amount of attention she just paid him. She kept walking and singing. An angel brought down to earth._

_Was it my imagination or was she staring straight at me? It wasn't my imagination; she was staring right at me. She was also walking towards me still singing her siren song. She had told me a few minutes ago that she was intrigued by me. The feeling has now been returned._

_**So maybe I'll see you there**_

_**We can forget all our troubles, forget all our cares**_

_**So go downtown, things'll be great when you're**_

_**Downtown - don't wait a minute for**_

_**Downtown - everything's waiting for you**_

_**Downtown, downtown, downtown, downtown ...**_

_She finished her song. The place erupted. Well as much as it could with maybe ten or fifteen people in the place. I found myself clapping along with them. I motioned for the bartender to get my new friend another drink. She made her way back to where I was sitting and hopped back up on her chair. I stared at her for a second before I spoke. Her cheeks were flushed and she had a big smile on her face. It was obvious that she got high on performing—something we had in common. "That was amazing," I finally said to her. She blushed._

"_Thank you…." she said quietly._

_A few minutes of silence passed between us before I finally found the courage to speak to her again. "Tell me about you."_

_She turned slightly and stared. "What do you want to know?"_

_I smiled. "Everything."_


End file.
